


Meet the Harringtons

by Captainmintyfresh



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fake Dating, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Steve's parents are dicks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-11-27 01:00:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainmintyfresh/pseuds/Captainmintyfresh
Summary: Steve brings Billy home to meet his parents, at least, he would if Billy would stop whining and agree to fake date him for a few hours to piss off his folks.*“You're fucking insane.” Billy said, actually looking fairly scared. Steve couldn't help but find it amusing, watching big bad Billy backing away slowly at one dumb request.“It'll be fun.” Steve said.“I'm leaving.”“You said anything I wa-”“I thought you'd want beer. For me to talk you up to some bitch or apologise to the brats not...not this.” Billy hissed, voice raw and incredulous in a way that left Steve's lips tipping into a smile.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve knew he didn’t have the worst parents. Not by a long shot. Dustin had told him what he knew about El and her ‘Papa’ not that it had been a lot, but it was enough to let Steve know that if there was a shit parents lottery between him and the people he knew he wouldn’t even come close to winning. 

But, the thing was, although he knew he didn’t have the  _ worst _ parents, he also knew with gleaming certainty that he didn’t have the best parents. Or even good ones. He knew it when he was seven and had had his Mom, breath hot with the stench of wine, telling him about his fathers current affair as a mockery of a bedtime story. He knew it when he was nine and he listened to her giving his babysitter instructions of how to take care of him while his dad muttered about ‘could just leave food out’ like he was a dog they were leaving for a sunny week in france not their son they were leaving to what...have more marital drama at some bullshit convention?

He knew it when the trips got longer and the babysitter got fired because ‘you’re eleven, you can take care of yourself for a few days’.  And when he was twelve and stopped listening in class, when he flunked math in the hopes that maybe it’d piss them off to stick around.

He knew it when he was fifteen  and Tommy called him a dumbass and he couldn’t dispute it, because flunking stopped being an act a good year ago and now he just genuinely didn’t understand what the fuck the teachers were on about. Because, really, he;d been an alright student until he got too distracted trying to get Mommy and Daddy to notice him to pay attention in class.

He knew it when he’d gotten detention after detention for the same stupid ‘make them notice me’ reason. 

But the thing was, it worked. sure, not in the way he hoped, there wasn’t worry about why he was suddenly flunking or why he’d gotten into a fight or why the liquor cabinet was all but empty when they returned. There was just shouting and insults and ‘don’t embarrass  the family Steven.’ like his D grade would cause more of a stir in the windmill of gossip than the fact his dad had screwed every assistant he’d had or his Mom could down a bottle of wine in three seconds and the two regularly chose to leave their kid for weeks at a time.

Those conversations however, the ones that would leave Steve blinking back tears as his father ripped into him about how useless he was and his mother would sit sipping at her merlot and shaking her head judgmentally in his direction were the best conversations he’d have with them.

the few where, for a second, they actually cared about their son and what he did with his time.

Which was why he kept doing it, kept playing up to the role of king Steve, and being, as Dustin put it, a douche.  Because that disappointment, that hatred of who he was becoming, it was better than nothing.

Or it was, until Nancy came along and suddenly, he felt like he mattered to someone. Like him not being there would actually have an impact. Like he was wanted, and not just for a twenty minute lecture or a fumbling screw at a party. With Nancy there his parents attention didn’t matter. His dad was an asshole, his Mom was a dick but he’d stick with them forever if that meant he could have a chance at giving Nancy everything she deserved, if he could stay close to her and not leave her the way his parents constantly left him.

He’d been happy, he’d mattered, for a little while. Until Nancy had been there, breath warm and alcoholic telling  him he was bullshit. That they were bullshit, that everything, every time he’d felt like he’d mattered was just a pipe dream constructed by shared trauma and he’d been too desperate to notice it.

Nancy was a blow to the gut. Something that was sill tearing at his chest but then he’d taken a real blow, this one to the head with one of the Byers plates and ended up in hospital a handful of hours later. Where doctors ran around him as he vomited and their words were little more than slurs as his head throbbed and whirled like a spinning top and his parents...his parents were nowhere to be seen. Not that night, or the next, or the next.

Steve had always known his parents weren’t the best, but until then, he’d always figured they at least cared, in some small way. That whether there was a brewing hatred lying beneath the surface or the burn of disappointment that they felt at least _ something _ for him.

When they’d finally come home and the bruises were still fading on his face and the pinprick scabs from his stitches were starting to peel and everything carried on the same as it always did Steve realised the truth. His parents weren’t the best parents because they just didn’t  _ care.  _ He was a status symbol, a mockery of the all american family to show off when it suited them. And it suited them a month later. When Steve was told he was expected to come to a business dinner with some out of towners. 

Which was how he came up with his plan. It was undeniably a terrible plan but it would be fun, he just needed one thing. And really, it was only fair that Steve use the person who landed the final depressing blow to his relationship with his parents in the act of a plate and a godawful concussion.

“I need a favour.” Steve said. The approach lacked finesse, yes, but someone who had almost killed him didn’t deserve finesse, or any small talk.

“And why would I do anything for you?” Billy snorted, tossing a book into his locker casually, like the guy he’d beaten to a pulp hadn’t just spoken to him for the first time in over a month and demanded his help.

“Because I could get you arrested for assault.” Steve said plainly.

“I don’t think stealing the ball in basketball counts as an assault, pretty boy.” 

“No-” Steve hummed. “-but almost killing me at the Byers house does.”

“That’s old news, Harrington, no one gave a shit then, no one will give a shit now.” Billy said, oh so calmly. Steve nodded along for show, sucking on his lips to force back a smile.

Sure, his parents didn’t give a shit, but that didn’t mean no one gave a shit.

“The police chief cared, even tried to convince me to press charges. Insisted on taking photos of the wounds as well.”

“You trying to blackmail me?”

“Just letting you know I’ve got the scars and a bunch of rugrats who would be more than happy to be eyewitnesses to get rid of you.” Steve held back his flinch as Billy slammed his locker closed and rounded on him, hands balling into fists as his lip curled in a snarl. Steve quickly put his hands up in surrender. Something that he was sure would look more innocent if his damn mouth would stop with the smug grin that he couldn’t force of his face if you paid him. “You can hit me again if you want, get another dozen or so witnesses, get arrested. Or, you could hear me out, do me one little favour and I’ll let you burn every photo Hop took.” Billy’s jaw ticked, his teeth grinding so hard that just watching it gave Steve a jaw ache. “your choice.” He finished softly, green eyes flickered over his face.

“What do you want?” Billy asked. The bell rung, loud and jarring, the students leaning sleepily against their lockers clawed their way back to life, shuffling down the halls like zombies to their first classes.

“Tell you after school.” Steve said, pushing away from the lockers and backing into the crowds of stumbling students.

“Harrington!” Billy warned.

“Later Billy.” Steve grinned, unable to resist the temptation to wink before he turned and let himself be swept up in the hustle and bustle of the corridor. He heard the rattling crash as Billy’s fist no doubt found an unsuspecting locker.

“Fucking asshole.” Billy shouted. 


	2. Propositions

As always the day of school seemed to drag on for Steve as he tried, and more often than not failed, to really grasp what the teachers were going on about. It had only gotten worse since he and Nancy had broken up. Before, when a lesson went from mildly confusing to utterly mind blowing Steve could just write vague notes knowing that he could get Nancy to help him understand it later, or he would zone out and try to come up with date ideas that would be something surprising for Nancy, rather than another trip to the cinema or bowling. Now he had no one to think about impressing, no one to explain what the hell his trig teacher was going on about so even as he copied from the board he knew it would be just as mind boggling when he looked at it later.

Lunch, although less headache inducing still held an uncomfortable tension. Despite being happy that Nancy was happy and glad that Jonathan was less gloomy overall seeing the two together still left a small ache in Steve's chest. He was getting over her, he knew that but that didn't make it hurt any less to know that he hadn't been enough. It wouldn't be too bad if he was the only one who would occasionally be stuck faking a smile over the lunch table because he did it fairly well. Nancy and Jonathan though, they weren't the best, Nancy's eyes too expressive as she'd look to Steve guiltily when he'd arrive while the two were discussing their plans for dates. Jonathan's awkward loner vibe far too strong when he'd go to put an arm around Nancy and then shoot Steve a nervous look before dropping his arm.

It was getting better, he knew it was, all three of them learning to roll with the awkward situation they were in but that didn't stop Steve from occasionally wishing to choke on a bread roll so he could avoid another stilted moment in the conversation when they all remembered that it used to be Steve sitting holding Nancy's hand and not Jonathan.

The point being, school sucked and had only sucked more ever since he'd lost the one thing that made going to school feel bearable, so when the bell finally signaled the end of the day Steve was all too happy to shove his things into his bag and get the hell out of the hell hole as fast as he could knowing he was one day closer to never having to go back.

Billy it seemed had other ideas about Steve's quick retreat.

“Harrington!” Billy bellowed, storming across the parking lot with purpose while Steve unlocked his car.

“Hargrove.” Steve replied calmly, all too aware of the nosey eyes now settled on the two as Billy reached Steve.

“Lets get this over with.” Billy grunted. “what is it you want.”

“Not now man. I have to drop Dustin and the others off at the arcade. We can talk there.” Steve said, opening the car door and fully intending to get in. He would have were it not for the hand snaking around his wrist and yanking him back.

“We’ll talk now.” Billy growled. Steve blinked down at the hand gripping his arm, vice tight.

“Careful, don't want more people to think you're hurting me.” Steve said.

“Harrington.” Billy warned.

“If we talk now then I'll have to drive the nerds while they bitch at me for being late.” Steve huffed, meeting Billy’s eyes unflinching. “You have to drop Max off anyway, it’s an extra five minutes, tops-” Steve carefully peeled Billy’s fingers away from his wrist, trying not to laugh as Billy watched him do it like he’d just grown a second head. He finished off with a soft, condescending pat to Billy’s shoulder that he was sure Billy would somehow make him regret, even if he couldn’t deck him like he clearly wanted to. “Relax a bit Billy-boy.”

“You’re fucking enjoying this aren’t you?” Billy hissed.

“Yes.” Steve said plainly, ducking into his car and driving off. He watched Billy in the rear-view mirror as he stalked across the car park. The crowd parting like the red sea for him as he made his way to the Camaro.

In the end he was late to the middle school anyway, thanks to Billy's little stall he'd ended up wedged in traffic as people tried to pick up their kids and teenaged drivers tried to flee from school. Despite it only being a few minutes by the time the party were clamouring into the car Dustin was mid rant about responsibility and time keeping like Steve wasn't picking all of them up out of nothing but the goodness of his heart.

“I mean, what if it had been raining.” Dustin said.

“Or snowing.” Mike added. “You know it's winter right? It's cold outside.”

“Max isn't complaining.” Steve said. Nodding out his window to Max still waiting in the lot for Billy to break free of the snail paced traffic that was still building outside of the school.

“Because she's not a wimp.” Lucas grinned. “but seriously, you should be on time, what if something happened-”

“Oh my god, it's five freaking minutes.” Steve snapped. “Nothing bad could happen in five minutes.”

“Nothing bad could happen in five minutes?” Lucas shrieked incredulously 

“Are you shitting me?!” Dustin scoffed.

“That's the dumbest thing you've _ever_ said and that's saying a lot.” Mike snapped.

*

Despite the drive to the arcade only being a few minutes, a distance that really, the party could walk, or bike, if they hadn't decided to start relying on Steve for lifts whenever they decided they didn't really want to ride their bikes, something that was happening a lot with the dropping temperatures of winter. The party managed to switch the topic a startling amount, jumping from conversation to conversation and shouting over one another through most of them.

It was, however, something Steve was getting used, even joined in with on occasion, either when they were talking about something that actually vaguely interested him or when Dustin pulled him into it, hoping for someone else to be on his side of whatever they were arguing about. Half the time Steve went against him just so Lucas and Mike wouldn't call him out on Dustin being his favourite, again.

When they reached the arcade the group had been through no less than four topics and Dustin had pulled the 'Steve, tell them' card twice and seemed to be working his way up to a third as Steve stopped the car and let the raised voices wash over him as he tried to figure out what exactly they were actually arguing about now.

“Billy, Billy what are you doing?!” Max’s frantic voice stole Steve’s attention from the arguing rugrats in his car. He looked over just in time to see Billy ducking down by Dustins window, slapping his hand unnecessarily hard against the glass leaving the unobservant kid letting out a scream.

“What the fuck!” Dustin bellowed as he turned to Billy. “What are you-”

“Get out, now.” Billy ordered, opening the door for him in what Steve knew wasn’t an act of chivalry. Dustin turned to Steve, eye’s bulbous and mouth dangling open dumbly. “I said now. Come on, all of you.” Billy continued.

“Billy stop it!” Max shouted. Dustin reached for the door, trying to yank it closed as Billy held it open. Mike and Lucas scrambled to reach from the back seat to help him.

“Are you deaf? Get out the fucking car.” Billy snapped. “Stop pulling the fucking door-” Max’s face was turning a blotchy red, her hands curling into fists. Steve could see the Byers car across the car park, Will and Joyce standing by it watching worriedly.

“Jesus Christ!” Steve snapped, opening his door.

“Steve No-” Dustin squawked as Steve pulled himself out of the car, levelling Billy an unimpressed look over the roof.

“Smile.”

“What?” Billy inquired.

“Smile asshole.” Steve ordered, turning to look at Mrs Byers and Will with a sunny smile and lifting a hand in a wave. “You know they would have gotten out if you hadn’t started yelling at them.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“We need to talk.” Billy said, following Steve’s lead and lifting a half hearted wave to Joyce.

“Yes. Weirdly enough I remember, you know, since I'm the one that w _ants_ to talk.” Steve said.

“You gonna tell me why now?” Steve thought that the smile Billy was shooting his way would suit a shark.

“What the hell is happening?” Mike asked snottily as the kids finally climbed out of the car. Dustin elbowing Steve out of the way, no doubt so he didn’t have to exit through the door Billy was still holding open.

“Nothing.” Billy said.

“Nothing.” Steve mimicked. “Will’s over there, why don’t you guys go say hi and head into the arcade, Dustin, I'll pick you up in a couple hours alright?” The mention of Will was all it took for Mike to lose interest, heading across the parking lot instantly. Lucas followed after a moment, dragging Dustin with him.

“You can go too, Max.” Billy said.

“I’m staying.” Max said, crossing her arms across her chest and tilting her chin up. Billy rolled his eyes, digging into his pocket, a moment later he was dangling a handful of change in front of Max’s face.

“Here, go play.” Billy tried, Max didn’t budge. “I said piss off will you. The adults are talking.”

“I told you to stay away from my friends.”

“I’m trying to fucking talk to-”

“Max. I need to talk to Billy alone, go have fun, we’re fine.” Steve assured. Max turned her narrowed gaze on him for a moment before she nodded, uncrossing her arms and opening her hand for the change. Billy dropped it into her palm.

“Now scram.”

“I’m just inside if you need me.” Max said. Which, really, would be sweet if it weren’t for the fact that Billy fake smile turned to a real one as a snort past his lips. The redhead took off towards the arcade.

“You must be happy to have such a muscular bodyguard.” Billy said.

“She managed to kick your ass so yeah, pretty happy with it.” Steve huffed, slamming the car door and moving round to rest on the hood. Billy followed his lead, perching next to him and tapping a cigarette out of his pack, ignoring his comment with a surprising show of restraint.

“The fuck do I have to do to get you off my ass then?”

“It’s a bit weird.” Steve admitted.

“I’ll do whatever you want if it shuts you up about that fight shit.” Billy grumbled.

“My parents are coming home soon, got this fancy party planned.” Steve explained. Billy lit the cigarette, eyes skirting over the arcade.

“Don’t see why that has anything to do with me.”

“I need you to come to the party with me.” Steve said.

“That’s what you want? for me to come to a party with you? Man, if you need Mommy to think you have friends-”

“Not friends.” Steve corrected. “You’d be my date.” Steve had never before watched anyone actually inhale a cigarette and found that it was, in fact, equally as disgusting as it was amazing, watching as Billy took a too deep breath and the cigarette suddenly disappeared between his lips before he was hacking out harsh coughs until the fag launched back out of his mouth, a trail of spit following it before it landed sadly on the concrete in front of them, ember still glowing “Well..That was new.” Steve said, eyeing the spittle covered cigarette as Billy let out a few last coughs.

“What the _fuck_ was that, Harrington?” Billy said, voice hoarse as he turned on Steve.

“I want to piss off my parents. So I need you to be my fake...boyfriend, fuck buddy, whatever you want to call it, for a party.”

“You're fucking insane.” Billy said, actually looking fairly scared. Steve couldn't help but find it amusing, watching big bad Billy backing away slowly at one dumb request.

“It'll be fun.” Steve said.

“I'm leaving.” Billy decided.

“You said whatever I want-”

“I thought you'd want beer. For me to talk you up to some bitch or apologise to the brats not...not this.” Billy hissed, voice raw and incredulous in a way that left Steve's lips tipping into a smile.

“Come on man, you want to make it up to me right.”

“I wanna make sure you don't call the cops.” Billy snapped. “I aint doing that shit.” Steve paused, his tongue shaping around words he knew he couldn't say. A simple line of blackmail that, if he was lucky, would sway Billy.

He choked back the words before they could come out. He’d done the douchebag thing before, it hadn’t worked particularly well for him, just left him with bad grades and a creeping sense of guilt.

“Look man just hear me out-” Steve tried instead.

“No.” Billy snapped. “Go to the cops if you want but I'm not pretending to...I'm not doing that.” He insisted before making a quick exit back to his car and a quicker exit from the car park, engine roaring obnoxiously as he sped away. Steve watched him go shoulders deflating.

“Well shit.” Steve sighed.  



	3. Rule one

Steve woke with a start, eyes snapping open, scrambling for the bat besides his bed as his sleep addled brain tried to work out why he’d jolted awake at ass o’clock in the morning. It was only once his fingers had closed around the bat's grip that the shrill ringing of the phone registered. He let his shoulder relax minutely, knowing he wasn't about to instantly be eaten, his gaze skirted to the clock only to leave him scowling when he saw the hands ticking past half three.

Just over a year ago Steve would have ignored it. crushed his pillows over his head until he could barely breathe and the sound of the phone would be muffled enough he’d fall back to sleep, or until at the very least he’d accidentally smothered himself into an ill-advised nap.

Since the upside down though he couldn’t do that. Not when he knew that there was a chance that it could be someone trying to warn him the world was once again trying to end, or asking for help before they got eaten. And so, despite every fiber of his tired brain desperately wishing he could roll back over and let the answering phone deal with it he forced himself to kick off the blankets and take off towards the phone in a lolloping gait, bat still clutched loosely in his hand.

“Wah-” Steve grunted in lieu of a greeting.  

“Morning Steve.” Hopper said, voice far too chipper, both for anyone to be dying and for nearing four in the morning. “Got someone at the station who's dying to see you. How about you get your ass down here and get him off my hands?”

“What?” Steve grunted again eloquently.

“Hargrove, Station. Now.” Steve's mind cleared enough for him to figure out what Hopper was trying to say.

“Yeah, no. It's three in the morning.”

“Trust me, I'm aware of that kid.” The chief sighed, usual no-nonsense tone back in place. “Come and pick up-”

“I'm not his mother! I'm not even his friend. Get someone else to pick him up I have to pick up Dustin for school in like three-”

“Tell him I'll do it, that thing he asked. I'll do it if he gets me the fuck outta-.” Steve froze at the slurring rumble of Billy's voice coming out muffled through the phone the quiet jangle of cuffs.

“Are you really trying to blackmail someone through me?” The chief asked stiffly.

“S’not blackmail, it’s a favour.”

“I believe that as much as your ‘no sir, I haven’t been drinking’. Get some sleep Harrington, I'll call his hou-”

“I'll be there in fifteen minutes.” Steve interrupted.

“Kid-”

“I really do need his help.” Steve pushed. “Fifteen minutes I swear.”

“If you’re late I’m calling his parents.”

“I won’t be” Steve promised, slamming the phone back into its hold as he rushed to find a semi clean top to throw on.

Thirteen minutes later and Steve found himself pulling to a stop outside of the station. He was greeted b Hopper waiting outside the door breathing out smoke as he watched Steve park. His eyes shifted from Hopper to Billy, sitting on the no doubt cold floor by Hops feet a cigarette dangling from the fingers of his cuffed hands as he let his head rest against the wall. The cuff's glinted against a street light as he raised one hand in a mocking wave, Steve watched as the cigarette toppled from Billy’s fingers and he made no move to pick it back up, just watched as the wind dragged it down the street eyes wide and awed like he was witnissing a magic trick. .

Steve got out of the car, shutting the door with a soft bang and scurried across the lot as Hopper quickly undid Hargove's handcuffs and hauled him up off of the floor.

“Took you long enough.” Billy hummed.

“Shut up.” Hopper said, handing him off unceremoniously. Billy stumbled into Steve’s side with the grace of a two-legged spider.

“I don't think he likes me very much.” Billy false whispered.

“Jesus Christ dude, did you bathe in vodka?” Steve hissed as he was hit with the warm scent of Billy’s breath.

“Oh, according to him he’s never touched alcohol.” Hopper said, sucking in another lungful of smoke.

“For real?” Steve asked. Hopper nodded sagely. “Alright well, thanks, I guess.” Steve said, awkwardly, unsure what he was meant to say when picking someone up from the station. “Come on Hargrove.” he made quick work of hauling Billy back across the parking lot and shoving him into the passenger seat.

“Harrington.” Hopper called, Steve turned back to see him tossing his own cigarette butt as he beckoned Steve over again.

“Stay here.” Steve ordered.

“Nah, thought I’d go for a jog.” Billy scoffed. Steve rolled his eyes, marching back over to Hopper.

“What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Hopper mimicked eyebrows climbing into his hairline. “Really? You come down to the station at the crack of dawn to pick up a guy who almost beat you to death and you’re wondering, what’s up?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“Do I want to know what it is you’re blackmailing him into.”

“No? Probably not.”

“Do I _need_ to know what you’re blackmailing him into?”

“Blackmails an ugly term-”

“Harrington.”

“No chief. It’s nothing bad, I swear.”

“Alright.” He said dubiously, hand searching in his pocket. “Well, if that changes-” Hopper held out a small card, a number printed on it. “Give me a call.”

“It won’t.”

“Take the card Steve.” Hopper ordered, Steve did as he was told.

“That all?” He asked shoving it into his pocket, Hop frowned, eyes on Steve’s car before he pulled out another card.

“One for Hargrove, Make sure he gets it.” Steve nodded, reaching out for it only for Hop to pull it away before he could “When he’s sober enough to remember it, tell him he can call anytime. Alright?”

“Yeah alright.”

“Anytime, day or night.” Hopper reiterated.

“Yeah, I got it.” Steve insisted, brow furrowed as Hopper finally let him take the card. “Is something wrong?” A retch stopped Hopper from answering as the two turned to look at Billy, almost falling out of Steve’s car as he leaned over to puke on the concrete. Steve grimaced as Hopper let out a tired sigh next to him and the two watched Billy empty his stomach onto the sidewalk. After a minute he finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up, eyes watery.

“Are we leaving or what?” Billy croaked.

“I’ll see you later Hop.”

“Have fun.” Hopper said sardonically. Steve jogged back across the lot, jumping into the car as Billy slammed his own door closed and flopped back against the seat.

“You owe me breakfast.”

“Excuse me?”

“Breakfast, you’re paying.” Billy hummed, eyes closing as he rested his sweaty forehead against the glass.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“If you want me to be a part of your faggy plan it is.”

“But-”

“If you’re desperate enough to pick me up from the fucking police station you’re desperate enough to buy me some food.” And, really, Steve couldn’t argue with that. "Come on Harrington, I'll sober up once I eat."

*

The two ended up at an all-night diner a few miles out of town. A place that Steve was fairly sure should have closed down years ago from lack of profit. It’s paint both inside and out was peeling, the tables perpetually sticky. He’d only been a handful of times but he’d never seen more than five people in it,  including himself and the staff.

Despite its barren look however it did serve some decent food, and a killer milkshake that really had been the sole reason Steve would drive out every couple of months since accidentally stumbling into it one night when he’d gotten lost after spending the night drinking in a field with Tommy and Carol a good few years earlier.

“So what are the ground rules?” Billy asked, elbows on the table and mouth packed with half chewed food leaving Steve's lips curling in distaste. He'd be perfect.

“Don't put my folks in the hospital for anything other than a heart attack and we're good.” Steve said.

“So..what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. Just...be you. Dating a guy will be bad but that guy being someone like you-”

“What's that supposed to mean?!” Billy growled.

“You're an asshole.” Steve said unapologetically. “You have no manners, you dress like a male hooker-”

“You meet a lot of male hookers?” Billy smirked, Steve ignored him.

“My dad hangs out with a bunch of snobs. They turn their nose up at me and I know how to act when I’m around them.”

“I’m not some fucking hobo who can’t mix with-”

“You still have vomit on your shoes.” Steve pointed out, Billy’s lips pursed as he snorted out an angry breath like a bull preparing to charge.

“ I got drunk, I'm not trailer trash.”

“I’m not saying you are.” Steve snapped. “I’m just saying, my parents, they’re snobbish assholes who judge everyone and they have expectations for me. Marry a nice quiet girl who can pop out a few kids and fetch me my scotch when I’ve had a long day. You’re a guy who thrives on being a douchebag and will make a smart ass comment whenever he can. You’re the furthest thing from the nonimposing pretty robot thing they want for me.” He finished by jamming some of his pancakes into his mouth, watching as Billy glared down at his own food, fingers drumming on his mug of coffee.

“I’m not kissing you.”

“Good.” Steve said. “I don’t want you to. No hand holding either. You can slap my ass if you want but otherwise we just stand close and say suggestive shit.”

“I can’t hold your hand but I can grab your ass?” Billy smirked into his mug as he went to take a sip.

“It’s too soft. If we’re doing this I want my mother clutching her pearls as we talk about how you fucked me over the dining room table.” Coffee spurted from Billy’s mouth, spraying across the table as he choked. Steve quickly moved his pancakes before they could get doused and continued on as Billy choked. “I’m looking for a reaction here man, not for them to grudgingly accept it.

“You’re fucking insane.” Billy croaked. Steve was hit with a sense of deja vu. “I’m not talking about that in front of your parents. or anyone. ever.”

“You don’t have to be that graphic but you get what I mean right?”

“Be an oversharing douchebag?”

“Exactly.” Steve grinned. Billy rolled his eyes cradling his head in his hands.

“You’re crazy.”

“You’ve mentioned.”

“No one can find out about this.” Billy said. “Like, fine, I'll play it up for your parents but if anyone else from town finds out-”

“No one will.” Steve snorted. “This is purely business, Dad never invites anyone from Hawkins for business stuff. If I thought anyone else I knew would be there trust me I would not be doing it. I’d rather lick Tommy’s feet than have people think I'm dating you.”

“I’m serious, Harrington.” Billy said lowly. “If anyone finds out-” Steve rolled his eyes prematurely, ready for the threats to start rolling off of Billy’s tongue. “-people can’t know.” He finished lamely.

“The won’t.” Steve promised. Billy gnawed his lip, skin pale as he drummed his fingers against his cup.

“Alright.” Billy said, squaring his shoulders and running a hand through the mop he called hair. “Alright.” he repeated, slapping a palm on the table. “But we need some proper ground rules past don't put your folks in the hospital, and a fucking safe word or something for if we do see someone we know and have to call it off.”

“we're seriously doing this?” Steve asked eagerly.

“We're doing this.” Billy answered grimly.

“Fuck yes!” Steve breathed. “Thank you, man, this is-”

“Don't fucking thank me, Harrington. We're not friends.”

“No, we're not.” Steve nodded. “we're boyfriends.” Steve dodged the handful of waffle that Billy launched at his face, a giddy laugh bubbling out of his throat. “Aww, don't be like that, honey.” The blonde man met his eyes, entirely unimpressed.

“Rule one. You call me honey again and I'll break your arm.”

“Noted.” Billy nodded, appeased. “Sorry, Baby” Steve added with a grin.

“Fuck you, Harrington.” Billy huffed, eyes rolling as he took a sip of coffee but not before Steve saw the reluctantly amused smile twitching at the corner of his lips.


	4. Wake and shake

“Alright, come on let’s go.” Steve decided after a handful of rules, most of which consisted of ‘no one can find out’ had been set and their plates had been emptied. 

“Yeah no.” Billy said. “I’m gonna need another cup of coffee before we go.”

“Then you’ll have to hoof it back to town.” Steve said pushing his empty plate away as he stood. “I gotta go pick up Dustin for school.”

“School?” He mimicked, nose scrunched in confusion like he’d never heard the word before. It was a moment later his eyes widened, a look of panicked realization overtaking.“Oh fuck, school.” Billy gaped, launching himself out of the sticky booth. “They have a phone here?”

“I don’t kn-” 

“Order some pancakes to go.” He commanded, not giving Steve long enough to reply before he was scampering over to the uninterested waitress. By the time he made it to the counter Billy was already bent over it phone poised near his ear as the cord pulled taught and threatened to drag the receiver off of the opposite counter. “Pick up you little shi-Hello? Hi, yeah, Susan it’s Billy. Yeah no, I know, I left early to get Max some breakfast for doing well in that exam last week-” Steve snorted out a disbelieving laugh that had Billy throwing up a middle finger. “-but then my car broke down and the food got cold waiting for my friend to come pick me up so I’ve ordered some more-” Billy jabbed a finger at Steve and then at the waitress that he assumed meant he was meant to be ordering.

“You do to go boxes?” Steve asked, only half his attention sliding to the waitress.

“...Yeah.”

“-We’re just waiting for it to cook then we’ll come get Max. No, no you don’t have to- Hey Dad….Yeah I know what time it is, Like I told Susan I went to get Max...Yes Sir...Of course...No, no you don’t have to give her a ride...Yes, yes I’m sure she’ll be on time…” Billy’s body folded further over the counter, so much so Steve was sure he would tip over and onto the floor on the other side, his voice dropping into a whisper too low for Steve to hear anymore without eavesdropping too obviously.

“You gonna order?” The waitress asked before Steve could decide whether or not he wanted to slink closer to Billy in hopes of hearing more of his bullshit ‘I wasn’t drunk just being a truly spectacular big brother with bad luck’ story.

“Yeah uh, Can I get two stacks of pancakes one with extra whip and four milkshakes to go, please?” The waitress shot him an unimpressed look, clicking her tongue derisively.

“I guess.” She sighed, sauntering back towards the kitchen at a snail's pace.

*

Within twenty minutes Steve was pulling to a stop on what was apparently Billy’s street ignoring Billy nattering in his ear about how he’d been driving to slow and if he’d just let him drive instead they could have made it in half the time.

“And I wanted a coffee.” Billy huffed petulantly as Steve eyed the row of houses looking for a flash of red hair that would tell him Max was on her way.

“What?”

“I wanted a coffee, not a shake.”

“Then you should have paid for breakfast.” Steve said, grabbing his own shake and taking a hearty sip. 

  
  
  


“Where is she?” Billy gruffed. “I said wait on the curb.”

“Maybe she had to pee.”

“Roll down your window.”

“You feeling pukey again?” Steve asked, cranking down his window.

“That was hours ago Harrington, I’m fine.”

“Then why-” Steve started, Billy sucked in a deep breath, raising his hands to cup his mouth.

“MAXINE!! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW BEFORE WE LEAVE YOU.” 

“Holy God!” Steve winced, clapping his hands over his ears as Billy’s voice boomed too loud and too close to his eardrum. He span round with a glower as Billy let his hands drop and related back against the passenger side door “Jesus Christ! What the hell man! Just go in and-”

“Why? She would have heard.” Billy said relaxing back against the passenger side door, eyes hovering over Steve’s shoulder.

“Yeah, no shit, I think the entire of Hawkins heard.”  Steve huffed. “It’d be quicker to just go-” Billy jerked upright in his seat, head almost clapping against the roof of the car as he seemed to race to sit up as straight as meerkat searching for danger.  He turned to see what had caught Billy’s attention. Max was crouched over in the doorway pulling on her shoes as a man who Steve could only assume was Mr Hargrove stood eyeing Steve’s car like he was a drug runner, his shoulders squared and arms crossed. He turned his head slightly, eyes never leaving Steve as he said something to Max. The girls head snapped up, eyes running over the car, Steve could see the way her brow furrowed as she answered whatever it was Mr Hargrove had said before she was stomping down the steps towards them, the hair falling over her face did next to nothing to hide the suspicious look she was leveling at the car. Steve raised his hand in a jaunty wave.

“Mornin’ Max.” Max looked straight past him, to Billy, still stiff as a statue beside him, minus the hand tapping a beat on his thigh.

“Why are you with Steve?” Max hissed softly. “I thought you’d be with Tommy.”

“Would you prefer Tommy?” Steve asked.

“No. He’s an asshole.” She replied bluntly. He couldn't help the smile that tipped at his lips.

“Then who cares. Get in, we have to go.” Billy said. Max came to a stop at Steve’s window , crossing her arms and looking down her nose at Billy before she turned her gaze to Steve.

“Are you okay?”

“Max.” Billy warned.

“I’m fine.” Steve said. He let his gaze slide back over to Mr Hargrove, still waiting on the small porch, narrow eyes locked on the three of them. He pushed away from the wall, the way he did it, slow almost calculated, made Steve think of a video he’d watched in Biology of a Lion stalking its prey. 

“Max. I swear-” Billy hissed. 

“Come on, get in, we need to go get Dustin.” Steve interrupted. Max, for once, did as she was told, sliding into the backseat with a putout huff. Steve started the car, pulling away from the curb as Mr Hargrove reached the edge of the porch and paused, watching the car eek down the road.

“Why are you really with him?” Max asked.

“Like he said, Car trouble.” Bill lied “Here.” He added, shoving one of the boxes of pancakes into Max’s hands as they rounded the corner. Steve watched in the rearview as she slowly cracked open the styrofoam as if expecting a monster to slither out. The furrow in her brow finally disappeared when she caught sight of the fluffy pancakes inside, gaze snapping up to the mirror to meet Steve’s.

“Thanks Steve.” Max murmured, lips tipping into a smile. Billy’s face twisted next to him.

“They were my idea, shitbird.” Billy huffed. Max snapped the box closed, expression darkening as she yanked a worn leather wallet from her backpack.

“Oh yeah, and how’d you pay for them? I found this in your room when I went to wake you up.”

“Hey give that to me!” Billy said, spinning round to snatch it from her grasp.

“You’re lucky Mom or Neil didn’t find it, they already barely believe your story about getting me breakfast.” 

“I did get you breakfast!”

“Steve got me breakfast!” Max said.

“Because I told him too! you know what fuck you.” Billy growled. “See if I ever do anything nice for you again.”

“Again? You got Steve to buy me pancakes, probably by threatening him, so you don’t get grounded. You’ve never done  _ anything  _ for me.”

“You know what screw you Max. You don’t know what I do for you, you stupid piece of sh-”

“Fuck off Billy.” Max huffed. Billy span in an instant, shoulders tight and mouth open in a snarl as he lent through the gap between the seats leaving Max flinching in on herself.

“What the fuck did you just say-” Steve grabbed the back of Billy’s shirt, yanking him back firmly into the front seats before he could finish his sentence.

“New rule. Don’t talk to her.”

“What?” Billy scoffed.

“You heard me. Don’t talk to Max. Just shut up.” Billy’s jaw twitched, hands curling into fists in his lap as if considering punching Steve in the face mid drive. Steve ignored the road, glaring right back at Billy. After a moment Billy huffed, tension ebbing out of his shoulders as he let himself relax back into the seat again, tapping out a cigarette and sparking it.

“Just focus on fucking driving before we’re late.” He grumbled, using his smoke free hand to grab for his shake.

“We still need to get Dustin.”

“Then hurry up.” The angry look Billy was wearing would probably have held more weight if it weren’t broken the second he took a sip of the milkshake.

“Good right?” Steve grinned.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

“Do I get a milkshake too?” Max asked hopefully

“Yes, but I’m not giving it to you while you’re in the car, you’ll spill it.” Steve said. Pancakes were one thing, milkshakes were just tempting fate. Billy snorted into his straw, a gleeful splattering of milky bubbles popped in his cup.

*

“Why are they here?” Dustin asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Hargrove’s car broke down.” Steve said, lie rolling off of his tongue easily.

“And you’re giving him a lift? You remember what he did to your face right? You still look a bit-”

“Dustin get in the car.” Steve said. Dustin eyed Billy, shifting from foot to foot.

“..He’s in my seat.”  Dustin muttered. Billy’s head snapped to Steve, eyebrows climbing and tongue jabbing at the side of his mouth in a way that Steve knew meant if he so much as implied Billy move seats any weird truce future fake dating was patching them into would be crushed in the same way Steve’s head would be when Billy cracked it into the steering wheel in retaliation for being shunned to the back. Steve turned back to Dustin apologetically.

“Just get in the back man.”

“But I always sit-”

“Dustin.” Steve sighed. “Get in the car before you make us late.” Dustin’s lips puffed in a pout as he moved, throwing himself into the backseat next to Max. Billy’s lips tipped in a smirk as he pulled a new cigarette from his packet. “Here, for your troubles.” He added, passing the second stack of pancakes back.

“What is it?”

“Breakfast.” Steve hummed, pulling away from the curb.

“Dude, you never bring me breakfast. what gives?” Dustin asked eyeing the box with the same caution Max had. “Wait, what’s wrong? who’s dying? Is the Demogorgon back? Are they really here because-”

“No! Jesus, I can’t just get you pancakes because I’m nice?”

“Seriously, what's wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“The pancakes were my idea.” Billy mumbled around a mouthful of smoke.

“Oh...Are they poisoned?” Steve tried to hide his laugh, sucking on his lips to stop it breaking out, Max however had no such subtly, honking in a loud bray of laughter that would have scared the Demogorgon back into the upside down.

“If you don’t want them I’ll have them.” Billy huffed, tapping his ash out the window.

“I want them.” Dustin said, clutching the box protectively to his chest.

“Then shut up and eat them.” 

“Alright Jeez, no need to be a bitch about it.” Dustin mumbled. Steve let his eyes flick to Billy as the teen blinked in apparent shock at being called a bitch by a thirteen year old, his tongue jabbing aggressively at the side of his mouth as he no doubt prepared some spiel of insults. Dustin seemed oblivious to Billy’s brewing anger, shoveling a sporkful of food into his mouth“Thanks for the pancakes.” he said, spraying pancake and spit across Steve’s backseat. The tension left Billy instantly, his chest puffing out like a fluffing cockatrice as he preened. Steve rolled his eyes as the teen met Max’s eyes in the rearview smugly.

“You’re welcome.”

*

It wasn’t long before they were pulling into the middle school. Max and Dustin chatting animatedly in the backseat apparently unaware they’d arrived at their prison for the day.

“Hey shitheads!” Billy boomed, cutting the kids off all too happily. “We’re here.” The two blinked around the car curiously, like perhaps Billy was lying before Max was shoving her way out of the car. She rounded to steve’s window, holding out a hand expectantly. Steve blinked at it for a moment, bemused before he reached into his pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill and placing it in her palm. Billy snorted.

“She wants the milkshake dumbass.”

“Oh! Oh right!” Steve said, holding out the milkshake.

“You want this back?” Max asked, snatching the shake and dangling the money in front of him.

“Keep it. Lunch money.” Steve said, unable to give Billy the satisfaction of him taking his accidentally offered five back.

“Wait why does Max get a shake?” Dustin gaped, leaning so far in through Billy’s window the teen had to throw himself back in his seat to avoid being headbutted in the face.

“Watch it shithead!” Billy snapped.

“Chill, I got you one too.”

“You did?” he asked, lighting up considerably.

“Yeah.”

“Do I get five bucks as well?” Dustin grinned.

“....Yes.” Steve said, handing over another bill.

“Awesome, thanks Steve. HEY GUYS! STEVES GIVING OUT LUNCH MONEY!”

“Dustin you shit!” Steve screeched. Shoving the curly mop of a head back out of the window and slamming his foot on the gas.

“Do  _ I  _ get lunch money?” Billy inquired, voice shaking with amusement. 

“You get to shut up is what you get.” Steve huffed. Flipping a laughing Dustin off in the rear window as he pulled out of the car park and started towards the high school. He could feel Billy’s eyes burning into the side of his face. “What?” Billy shrugged

“Your hairs flat today.” He answered, voice soft before he was returning to slurping the dregs of his milkshake calmly, like he hadn't dealt Steve mortal blow with a single sentence.


	5. Notes

Steve blew an errant strand of hair from his face, eyes flickering up and down the hall before he quickly grabbed the wad of paper from his pocket and begun stuffing it through the grate of the pale grey locker in front of him. The paper bunched, catching in the grate. Steve gave it a harsh wiggle.

“Mother-“ he huffed, another wiggle and the bull was through, weight dragging it down. The paper hit the bottom of the locker with a soft clang. 

“Did you just put a note in my locker?” Steve jumped as Billy’s voice boomed down the hall, his head snapped to the side, watching as Billy sauntered down the corridor towards him, eyes narrowed.

“Jesus, you need a bell.” Steve grumbled, drawing in a steadying breath as he tried to ignore his hammering heart and the fact he felt like a toddler being caught with their hand in the cookie jar rather than an 18 year old just delivering a note that he had a good reason for delivering. “Aren’t you meant to be in class?” Steve asked.

“Smoke break.” Billy said, holding up a hall pass and tipping to lean against the locker next to Steve.

“Pretty sure that’s meant to be for using the bathroom.” 

“Pretty sure I can’t get through the rest of math without a smoke. So, did you?”

“Did I What?” Steve asked innocently, Billy shot him an unimpressed look.

“A note.” Billy said, slapping a palm against the locker with a resounding thump that had Steve wincing against the sound. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s uh- well, my parents come back tomorrow for the party. So I was just, reminding you.” 

“Really, Harrington? You’ve mentioned it every fucking day this week, I’ve told you I’ll be there.”

“I literally mentioned it once and you cut me off before I could finish.” Steve pointed out. Billy’s face scrunched, shoulders pulling up as he faked thought.

“No..No i’m Pretty sure it’s been every day..” Billy decided. “See Monday you barely left me alone-”

“The only thing I said to you Monday was ‘you’re standing on my shoelace’.” Steve said.

“And then tuesday-”

“I asked you if I really was meant to be picking up Max.” 

“And wednesday-”

“Literally not a word spoken between us.” Steve snapped. Billy’s lips twisted in a smirk, like pissing Steve off was what he was after, which, really, it probably was.

“then yesterday  you nattered on for twenty minutes.”

“I literally managed to get out ‘Are we still on for-’ before you told me to piss off.” Steve recounted bitterly. 

“And now you’re leaving a note in my locker.” Billy feigned a worried grimace. “Are you taking our little arrangement too literally, you know it’s a one time deal right.”

“It was a five second conversation.” Steve growled. “I’m not...shut up.” He said eloquently. Billy’s tongue poked at his lip as he smirked. “So you are coming tomo-”

“Fucking hell.” Billy groaned, rolling his eyes so hard he actually turned his head with it. “I said i’ll be there, now drop it.” He pushed himself off of the locker. “And don’t leave shit in my locker, anyone could see.”

“I’m doing it now so people  _ won’t  _ see.”

“that worked well.” 

“It’s just a note.”

“That you’re delivering to another guy and skipping class so you won’t be seen. You’re right, that’s not weird at all.” he snarked.

“Me actually turning up for algebra would be weird. Me giving you a note is just...odd.”

“Whatever.” Billy sighed, tapping a cigarette out of his packet. “what are you gonna do now? Hide in the toilets for the rest of class?” Steve eyed the cigarette packet thoughtfully.

“Or I could have a cigarette.”

“You have some?”

“No, but...Can I bum one?” Hargrove tilted his head condescendingly, raising the packet as if he was about to hold it out for Steve to take one before snapping it back quickly.

“Nah.” Billy decided. “You’re rich. Buy your own.” Billy grinned, strolling past close enough to shoulder barge Steve back into the line of lockers.

“Asshole.” Steve grumbled.

*

Steve stared blankly at the television, unaware what was even playing as he sprawled across the couch, socked feet kicked up on top of the untouched homework that he’d spread across the coffee table when he’d got in then promptly forgot about as he’d turned the tv on and let the white noise of whatever show was playing fade into his mind as he thought about what the next day would bring.

He knew, whatever happened, it would be interesting. Interacting with Billy felt like what Steve would imagine playing a game of darts blindfolded would be like. Confusing, with a rush of adrenaline and excitement even as you knew that what you were doing was undoubtedly stupid.

He was jolted from his thoughts by a knock at the door. Steve tipped his head towards the hall, squinting at where he knew the front door was hidden behind the wall. he waited, with baited breath, until, after a few moments, the knock came again, louder and more persistent drawing a bitter groan from Steve’s throat as he noted the hall light shining jauntily telling whoever it was that someone was definitely in. 

It had been a year since he’d had people he actually wanted to see turn up at his door without an invitation.  Before, when he was still shrouding himself in the title of king Steve he wouldn’t have minded, it wasn’t unusual for Tommy and Carol to turn up unexpectedly. Waltzing in with a pack of beer and the latest school gossip on their tongues. 

That had stopped with Nancy, who always let him know before she came round. usually a good few days before. Since he’d launched himself out of Tommy’s immediate social life with a cry of ‘you’re both assholes’ the only people who turned up unexpectedly were humorless salesmen ranting at him about their latest vacuum, or, even worse, Jehovah's witnesses asking him questions about God and the afterlife.

At least, he thought as he shoved himself up and stomped towards the door, he wasn’t stoned this time. the last time he’d answered the door to them while blazed he’d ended up inviting them in for a sandwich and couldn’t make them leave for a good hour.

He prayed silently for it to be salesmen, at least with them he could send them away with a bat of his eyelashes and the ‘Sorry, I'm twelve’ excuse that had them looking ready to clobber him over the head with whatever pointless product they’d dragged to his door. He threw the door open, words already on the tip of his tongue only for him to choke on them the moment his eyes locked on the blue eyes staring back at him.

“Hargrove?” Steve asked, voice an embarrassing squeak that reminded him far too much of actually being twelve. Billy stood on the porch, a backpack tossed over one shoulder and a cigarette dangling from his lips as he rocked on his heels to peer past Steve into the house.

“Alright Harrington.” Billy said casually, like him turning up on Steve’s doorstep was at all expected.

“Um” Steve said eloquently, tilting to look behind Billy in hopes that an explanation would be following him. Nothing was there, just the driveway blanketed in darkness. Even Billy’s car was nowhere to be seen.

“You gonna let me in or not?” Billy didn’t wait for an answer, just tossed his cigarette butt to the side and shouldered his way past. He paused as he reached the bottom of the staircase, head twisting from side to side as he let out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Damn Harrington, Just how rich are you?” Steve took another look at the driveway desperately as if a flashing billboard would have appeared in the last 10 seconds to explain why Billy Hargrove was in his home. When he once again came up short he let the front door fall closed, turning his attention to said uninvited guest. “You got any beer?” 

“Um.” Steve repeated. Billy raised an eyebrow impatiently “yeah uh, kitchen.” He pointed in the right direction and Billy took off, tossing his bag onto the stairs and marching through the house seemingly at ease in a way he had no right to be.

By the time Steve had stopped muttering ‘what the duck’ to himself and followed Billy into the kitchen the teen had made himself at home searching through the refrigerator for the aforementioned beer. He walked skittishly into the room, putting the island between them. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Because you’re pathetic enough to need a fake date to a family party.” Billy said, not even bothering to pause his search.

“That’s..the parties tomorrow man, and if it weren’t you’d be like five hours late.”

“Aha!” Billy cheered triumphantly, pulling a six pack from the back of the fridge and cracking open a can.

“Hargrove-” Steve tried again as Billy chugged at his drink “Why are you here?”

“I told you.” 

“And I said-” 

“I know.” Billy huffed. kicking the fridge shut and hopping up to sit on the counter. “Parties not till tomorrow blah blah blah-” He paused to take another swig from his can

“Then why?”

“Susan asked about my plans for the weekend.” He said, as if that explained anything.

“And?”Steve prompted. Hargrove rolled his eyes, taking a passive aggressively long swig of his beer.

“And-”  He sighed when he finally stopped drinking. “-I couldn’t exactly say that I was coming to a party where i have to pretend to be a faggot to stop a guy from my school getting me arrested now could i?”

“So what did you tell her?”

“Told them I was taking Max and her shithead friends camping.” Billy took another slurp from his can, resting back against the tiles.

“Won’t they realise that’s a lie when Max is still there and you’re not.”

“They would if she were there, which she isn’t. I’m not a moron.”

“Where is she?”

“Camping.”

“Billy-”

“Mrs Byers said they’re doing some girls weekend the other day, asked if Max could go. I was nice enough to say she could go. Nancy and some Janice kid will be there. She’s fine.”

“Do you mean Jane?” 

“Maybe.” Billy shrugged. “She seemed excited and that kid could use some girl friends. I don’t know about this Jane kid but Mrs B is like responsible and shit, barely let’s her kid off his leash. I'd be surprised if Max got as much as a paper cut with her.”

“Yeah, Max is probably as safe as she could ever be with those three.” He snorted, thinking of Nancy with her gun and El killing a freaking demogoron and wandering into the Byers house like it was nothing.“It’s probably a good idea anyway. If we want my parents to think we’re banging you being here when they arrive will help.” He decided.

“Rule eighty-” Billy begun.

“We’re definitely not up that high-” Steve interrupted.

“Don’t talk about us banging unless you absolutely have to.” Billy continued as if Steve never started. “I don’t want you bitching when I puke all over your fancy boy floors.”

“Whatever. Toss me a beer.” Steve conceded. He caught the can Billy launched his way, cracking it open and slurping quickly at the foam before it could spill over onto the floor.

The room fell silent Billy eyes trailing over the kitchen with a lazy sort of nosiness as Steve let his interest be drawn to the island counter, finger idly chasing the swirls in the marble.

The quiet hung over them like a blanket, Stirling and uncomfortable. 

“You eaten?” Steve asked, when the blanket of silence had become too suffocating making even the soft swallows as they drunk uncomfortably loud. 

“Not really.” 

“You want to?”

“You gonna play the good housewife and cook for me?”

“Fuck no.” Steve snorted. “I was thinking we could order pizza” Billy paused, beer an inch from his lips.

“You paying?”

“Trade you, Beer for cigarettes.”

“..Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update and sorry this is a short one, i'll try and get more up before too long!


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